


That Rush in My Veins, It Twists My Head Just a Bit Too Thin

by GoddammitMorrigan



Series: A Three Body Problem [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Assassination Attempt(s), Comfort Sex, Holding Hands, M/M, Multi, Shameless Smut, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 13:30:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5587783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoddammitMorrigan/pseuds/GoddammitMorrigan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When assassins descend on them in the library, Dorian sees his world fall apart.<br/>But it takes a lot to kill The Iron Bull, and Cole isn't about to let that happen, either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Rush in My Veins, It Twists My Head Just a Bit Too Thin

**Author's Note:**

> The fifth installment in a series of Coribull smut drabbles. Title comes from "The Kids Aren't Alright," by Fall Out Boy.

Dorian’s still shaking when Cole appears before him, sliding out of the shadows like a knife. There’s blood on him, an abrupt splatter across his arms and chest, only a sliver of his face visible beneath his hat. “You need to go,” he says. 

“Bull—” Dorian chokes out. 

Thoughts pelt at him, a confused flurry. But the library is a mass of shadows, the sharp sting of blood in the air, and all of his cleverness has fled.

“Leliana has him. It’s not good for you to be here.” Cole takes his wrist and pulls him down the stairs, away from the body crumpled by the bannister, its horns glistening wet in the low light. 

The trip back to their quarters is a blur, anchored into Dorian’s consciousness by Cole’s hand in his. His grip is warm and callused, rough and real. When the door is shut behind them, Cole steers Dorian to the bed, helping him out of his coat. There’s blood there too—dark and viscous, almost black. Dorian’s washed his own blood out of his clothes often enough, but looking at those stains makes him want to vomit. 

“It’ll be all right,” says Cole.

But it won’t. The assassins had caught them in the library, a cluster of poisoned knives in Bull’s arm before Dorian had the chance to register that they weren’t alone. Too many, strange weapons, no antidote he knew. 

And then Cole had been there, blades flashing, shouldering Dorian away. All he remembered was Bull falling, Cole a whirlwind, the sound of it leeched away as if he were watching from a great distance.

Cole lifts Dorian’s clothes from him, soft as a whisper, and piles them in the corner. As he strips off his own bloody shirt, the door creaks open and a familiar sigh causes Dorian to jerk his head up. Bull steps inside, ducking a little to allow his horns to clear the doorway, his arm bandaged from elbow to shoulder.

Dorian’s heart rises into his mouth, thundering so hard he can hear it pounding through his skull.

Cole smiles faintly. “I told you it would be all right.”

The mage is up and in Bull’s arms in a heartbeat, clutching him tight. “Oof! Careful, kadan.” But he holds Dorian tenderly despite his injured arm, pressed against his chest.

“Maker take you, you big idiot, I thought you were dead!” 

“I’m fine,” he soothes, running his fingers through Dorian’s hair. Normally he would resent having his head petted, but right now, it’s the best feeling he’s ever experienced. “Their first mistake was sending a qunari after me. The Ben Hassrath would have sent someone human. We like agents who can blend in.” Bull nods at Cole. “Good work there, kid.” 

Cole hums in satisfaction, dangling his legs off of the edge of the bed.

Dorian reaches for Bull’s waistband, fumbling with his belt. Bull frowns, steadies Dorian with his good arm. “Kadan—”

“I want you,” Dorian says shortly. “So peel off your hideous excuse for a pair of trousers and get on the bed.”

Bull catches his shaking hands. Dorian's trembling so hard, his entire body hurts. "Maybe we should talk about this," he says.

“No," he snaps, sharper than he means to. "I don’t want to think about it, I don’t want to think about anything right now.” Dorian reaches up to grab Bull’s horns and pulls him down, kissing him hard. “So make me stop thinking.”

Bull huffs out a laugh, his eyes kind, and sweeps him up onto the bed, Cole curling behind them, a long swathe of pale skin and good intentions. "As you wish, Kadan."

They end up propped against the wall, Dorian in Bull's lap, grinding his ass against Bull's length. Each slide draws a groan out of Bull, a twitch from his cock, and Dorian grins. Yes, he's good at this. He's very good, and this is a thing he can control. 

Cole helps, guiding Dorian's weight away from Bull's injured arm, pushing him against Bull so his back is nestled comfortably against the qunari's chest. Carefully, Dorian sinks down onto Bull's cock, in agonizingly slow movements, until he's flush with Bull's hips, his lover's entire length inside him.

"You are incredible," Bull manages.

Dorian flashes him a smirk. "Oh, I know."

Bull flexes in reply, and Dorian's smirk pops like a soap bubble, melting into a moan. Cole catches his lips in a kiss, cradling his face with both hands like it's his first time with a lover. Dorian is resolutely positive, with a little smugness, that it isn't.

It’s easy to think Cole’s breakable, with his lean, rangy body, his hair fine as glass. But there’s a core of iron laid alongside that softly beating heart, and his hands, so gentle with Dorian, have opened throats like they were made of wet paper.

Dorian had forgotten. He’d forgotten a lot of things. But tonight, he’d been violently reminded.

“Forget,” whispers Cole, kissing down Dorian’s neck, breath tickling Dorian’s ear. His mouth travels further down, pausing to kiss, then press his teeth gently into each nipple. His tongue flickers, pleasure bright as fire, and Dorian arches his back and moans. “I’m here, and he’s here. All you need to be is here, with us.”

The boy is gentlest when he’s with them, handling them like they’re the breakable ones. In the short time he's been with them, he's grown clever with his mouth, coaxing the most obscene sounds out of the both of them. His hands take over as he kisses his way down Dorian's stomach, and when his lips brush against the tip of his cock, Dorian gasps in a way that makes Bull move inside him, deep. 

Bull fills him, the length of him a familiar, comforting heat, and as they move together, he breathes a stream of words that might be filthy, might be reassurances, Dorian's not sure which. Cole hums again, this time around him, and he bucks his hips into the boy's mouth. Pleasure takes him with a white roar, and he almost blacks out.

Cole's tongue eases him through it, and Bull strokes his back, steady, constant. When he comes back down from it, Bull has his injured arm wrapped around him, the bandage stark white, blotched over his bicep with deep color.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Dorian means to say, but it comes out as, “I thought we’d lost you.”

“You won’t get rid of me that easily, kadan.” His hand presses warm on Dorian’s thigh, cradling him close. Cole’s hand creeps up to join them, his scarred fingers resting quietly above their intertwined ones.


End file.
